Question by Redjay: What does this dream mean, and can I stop having such vivid, crippling nightmares?
I was a prisoner, of a group I’ll refer to as the Nazis, but it wasn’t quite the same thing, that’s just the feeling I got of them. I’d be running for a long time when they caught me, I was a wanted enemy for ‘crimes’ against them – you know, fighting on the other side of the war, which consisted mainly of my friends, and university students and a couple younger children who were prisoners of the Nazi. When they caught me, I was taken to a podium sort of like the side of a stadium; just one side, up fairly steeply, with a big security gate at the top. I was only half concious, so I didn’t know until later in the dream that it was indoors. I was thrown down at someone’s feet, someone I knew, a younger prisoner of war, and publically ‘trialed’ in front of all the prisoners from my side of the war, the idea being to make an example of me. All through this trial I was treated like I was some important war rebel (I think the Nazi lot were winning the ‘war’) and I was mouthy and eventually ‘broken’ into silence. Lying at someone’s feet between two rows of chairs (well you know, benches in the seating lot) on the ground, face in the concrete, plays on a strong claustrophobia that I have too, so I was shaking by this point despite all the rebellion.
They told the younger person to shoot me (may I note here that I have crippling phobia of being shot) but when the Nazis turned thier heads for a second, some of the prisoners/possibly double agents were able to switch my body for some kind of realistic dummy – the gun didn’t fire bullets so much as kill a person. So they made out that the guy had shot me, I faked my own death by lying still and not moving or breathing heavily at all, and then they decided to further make an example of me by making into part of a sort of Nazi masterpiece that one of them was building, which involved half beaten up me being dragged across the stage seating or wherever it was and placed at someone’s knees, a really creepy painter, who started to paint me silver, to match what he was painting. He was also trying to make my bruises more realistic, so he was painting those too, and treated me like a corpse – callous grabbing, tilting my head back, dropping. I just went limp because a friend of mine who knew I was alive but was acting as a double agent was ‘helping’ the painter so she could help me escape.
Which, when he went to take a break, we did – injured me was helped out the door, and then we had to creep by of all things the Arabic side of the army – for some reason my Arabic had suddenly become a lot better than it is, and that’s what I was speaking, and thus my friend and I worried that because we were speaking Arabic, the soldiers in the mess hall would hear us, and catch us, and we’d both be executed. Yes, I realise the irony of having “Nazis” and Arabs… Being half Arab myself… Yeah. So we had to sneak by using some of the food plates, which meant getting out these big doors, and when we did, we just ran, but someone saw us at the last moment. This is about when the soldier bit clicked in, because my friend was wearing the uniform of the other side, whereas mine was more ragged… I was almost not a part of the opposing side but an individual who had picked a side.
I ducked through a gap between the buildings because my friend would be able to get back okay, as someone shouted out the door at us, and had to tag along with the end of a group going up some big monument/tourist place that I’ve dreamt about before, which is a big needle-like thing that spirals up, and then you have to climb a ladder to get to the top. The guy recognized me, and we had a discussion about how painted I was and how much the paints might poison me if they were oil-based, then I had to tell the group I was on the run from the Nazi lot, but I was nervous about telling them that and still limping around, my friend had to help me as far as the monument place, and that’s when I woke up.
One of the people I was climbing with who I had until that point tried to keep the secret from was a guy I feel incredibly strongly about, and the person who helped me escape is one of my best friends here. I knew the small child who was told to kill me but I can’t recall a name or face anymore. I didn’t recognize any of the Nazis, but I suspect John Simm may have been in there someone, to be fair. I was never referred to by name throughout the trial, that I can think of, but both sides knew clearly who I was. I think the reason I was “caught” was because I traded myself for someone else’s freedom. That’s the image in my head, and a mocking ‘you really think we’ll let them go now we have you’ sort of phrase. I can’t remember many of the words in the dream at all, just ideas, and events. Vividly.
Yes, I’m well aware this is incredibly detailed for a dream, but my d
@Gia: I can’t think of anything that fits that bill. The only thing I have ever watched with Nazis, real or dream, is Indiana Jones.
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